Goody Two Shoes
by Shurely
Summary: Set in the aftermath of inFamous. Cole's saved Empire City, and now he has to go around, fulfilling his 'duty' and guiltily helping out those people he previously missed on the streets. Contains minor spoilers. Please review!


Author's Note

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Cole MacGrath was well acquainted with the troubles of the city. After destroying the Ray Sphere - consequently killing John White - he had thought long and hard about his future. Slowly but steadily, Empire City was getting back up on its feet, and perhaps soon the quarantine would be lifted. He wasn't sure of what happened to Sasha and Alden, but he didn't care. They could rot in their own paranoid, insane dens whilst he electrified their goons. With Trish and Kessler gone and Zeke preoccupied, there was a certain emptiness about his life that he found disturbing. He was a changed man - Kessler had made sure of that - and now everything he'd thought important was now irrelevant. He had power, and with that power came the ultimate responsibility of kicking out the gangs in each district.

He stood atop a building, ready to drain a satellite. Taking a deep breath, he spread his arms wide, and the electricity flooded into him, filling his muscles with hot and static energy. A second later, the satellite was completely drained, and Cole jumped onto a nearby cable to grind to the next one. Sparks fizzed and spat around his feet as he surged forward, leaping off and brushing against the satellite, draining it instantly. He repeated the process, hopping from one cable to the next, absorbing the vicious energy, resetting the satellite uplinks.

As soon as he touched the last satellite, a shower of bullets slammed into his back. He growled frustratedly and launched an electromagnetic shield to cover himself. A Reaper was running around the roof of a nearby apartment, gurgling on the tar spawned from Sasha and looking like an absolute moron.

"Seriously?" Cole muttered. "You have an AK47 and you're not gonna even hold it properly?" More bullets collided into his shield, and he sighed. "Fine. That's it, you're going down."

He concentrated, time crawling to a near halt as he focused on the Reaper. Where its face should've been was a black void, and he released an electric bolt. The Reaper was blown backwards and fell off.

"Head shot." He grinned.

Then he frowned and followed the Reaper's descent, changing the magnetism in the air to form crude thrusters. He landed gently, almost elegantly, next to the corpse, and knelt beside it, hand stretched out and reaching for its head...

A vivid image formed in his mind, projected from the dead Reaper's memories. The image depicted a box, sealed but with blue light escaping through the cracks, hidden somewhere nearby. Cole knew what it had inside: Blast Shards. Pieces of the Ray Sphere that had become part of the debris in the midst of the explosion and embedded themselves into buildings and objects alike. Every time he found one, he always had the distinct feeling of his energy expanding, like he was a vessel and the Blast Shards were piecing together and building upon him.

He grunted his thanks to the corpse, and then closed his eyes, trying to locate the box. After traversing Empire City millions of times, he knew it like the back of his hand, and - with a self-satisfied smirk - he recalled a place similar to the surroundings near the box. He set off in the direction of where he thought the box was, clambering up a house and running across the roof. Down below, cars spluttered and coughed grey pollution; some drivers were so careless and selfish that they simply ran over any pedestrian that dared to cross the road whilst they were driving. He vaulted over a low wall and then dropped onto a balcony. There it was: the box. He bent down and tore off the lid, squinting as the luminescence exploded and formed a halo around the Blast Shards.

His hand curled around the five Blast Shards, and they diffused into his skin. It was like he'd just touched a red-hot wire: electricity coursed through his fingertips to his arm, then to his torso, charging him with overwhelming, static energy with a synchronous pulse to his own heart beat. He stepped back, relishing the power, and then dived off the balcony. In the distance, he could hear incessant gun fire. That meant only one thing: the Reapers' buses. He manipulated the magnetism in the air again, this time gliding to another building. He peered over the edge and wasn't surprised to see a bus, defiled with the Reapers' savage graffiti and spewing hundred of bullets, crawling along the road. Cars that drove towards it were showered with gun fire and torn off the Reapers' path. Pedestrians lay on the pavement, faces contorted in pain and many flattened against the concrete or shops.

He made quick judgements, and then jumped. The air rushed past him, howling in his ears, freezing his raw skin, but somewhat slowing his drop. He crashed onto the top of the bus, aware of the Reapers inside that were shrieking indignantly and randomly shooting whatever they could see. He jeered as he located the generator and overpowered it with a torrent of lightning from his hand. When it whined in protest and prepared to detonate, he hurdled the barriers and landed in a roll on the pavement. The bus blew up, buffeting him, and he shielded himself with his arm, the flames singing his sleeve. But now that was another load of Reapers gone, and the city would have less menaces to worry about.

He heard someone approach, and automatically turned. There was a man, gesturing wildly, speaking loudly, directing him to the injured passers-by. Cole wasted no time: he went up to them and rubbed his hands together, discharging brilliant blue sparks from his palms. The civilians barely had time to register the shock of seeing the 'electric man' before he delivered his own shock to them. They jumped, and he had to suppress a laugh at their stunned faces. With several people jolted into recovery, he swiftly sprinted down a different road, keen to avoid their gratitude. After all, this was his duty. If they wanted to thank him, then they were more than welcome to; however, he wasn't about to bathe in their praise and become big-headed.

"Hey!" He looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at the woman addressing him. "There's surveillance equipment all over my building! Destroy it!"

Not even a please? he thought. He nodded silently and allowed the woman to point out her building. Even from his distance, he could see the black meshed devices flashing red, emitting signals to be interpreted by their installers. Before she could further beg him, he ran forward and scaled the walls, shortening the distance to the devices to mere centimetres where he easily short-circuited and destroyed the equipment. A minute later, he'd gone up and down the places dozens of times, and he had a feeling that only one was left. But he couldn't find it. He searched again, this time more thoroughly - still no luck. When he about to give up completely, even walking away from the building, he cast one last look back. And there it was: hiding under a balcony, light hidden. He almost laughed in relief. He hated leaving jobs unfinished.

Deciding he needed a break and he was hungry, he went up to the nearest hot dog stand and gruffly asked the man standing at it for a hot dog. He knew better than to expect one though, and he was proved right. Naturally there wouldn't be any sausages or bread - probably not even ketchup and mustard - in Empire City any more. He couldn't wait until the quarantine was lifted. The day that happened would be the day he'd get to eat real food.

He was about to leave when the man tapped his shoulder, brow furrowed and squinting. "I know you," he said hoarsely. His face split into a grin. "You're the electric man! You're the guy going around, helping people out! Ah, screw what the newswoman says - you're the real hero!"

He shrugged modestly. "I'm doing what any other person would in my situation."

"Yeah right! People around here used to be either thugs or cowards. Now you've given us hope, and when the quarantine lifts, I'll buy you a hot dog!" Just what I was thinking, Cole thought. "Name's Charlie, so search for me when you're leaving, okay? Good job!"

His prize for all his efforts: a hot dog. Better than nothing, he reasoned. "Uh, thanks Charlie. I'll see you later." Then he departed from the stand.

Stomach grumbling, he sat on an unoccupied bench, gazing up at the gargantuan statue of Archer Square. A minute later, a man wearing a threadbare scarf and coat completely buttoned up sat next to him. Cole took it as a signal for him to leave, and so stood up. But the man chuckled, and he activated his radar pulse. His vision was enhanced, and for a split-second he saw all the electrical appliances discharge blue sparks. The man in front of him emanated a red aura, warning him of danger. Of course. A Conduit Reaper in disguise. A rare occurrence, sure, but nothing he hadn't fought before.

"Goody two shoes," the Conduit sneered.

"What did you say?"

"You do all these favours for these pathetic civilians, and what do they do in return? Cheer you on and offer you a hot dog. Whilst here _I_ am, enjoying life despite the quarantine but suffering the loss of my brothers because you keep murdering them."

"For the benefit of society," Cole growled. "You're not helping anyone here. You're just being a selfish bastard. In fact, you should scamper away before your body is nothing but ashes." The sky rumbled as the clouds darkened and gathered above their location. The Conduit glanced up and gave a ghost of a smile in response.

"Lightning abilities? We Reapers have yet to acquire _that_." He got to his feet and stretched leisurely. "Well, I suppose you're right. I can hear my mistress calling me. Besides, I have lots to do before I die. Farewell, Cole. Perhaps you should cherish what you have for once instead of sacrificing it to people who don't understand and never will."

The Conduit disappeared, leaving the harsh odour of ozone, and Cole just stood there, unsure of how to react. Did that Reaper know of...Trish?

"It's what she would've wanted." He held his head high, staring defiantly at the statue. "Goody two shoes I may be, but at least I'm not abandoning my responsibilities and sacrificing my sanity. Unlike you guys, Sasha and Alden. I know you're still out there, listening to me, and I'm ready to hunt you down once and for all."


End file.
